


Trapped

by DictionaryWrites



Series: Solavellan [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Claustrophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Phobias
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 22:00:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20881349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: “Don’t panic,” came Solas’ voice through the rock, and Lavellan gasped in a breath through a slightly tight chest, pinned as he was in his place. The rocks had fallen behind him, pinning him against the wall underneath a flint outcrop that had at least stopped the stone from falling on his head. “Are you injured, lethallin?”





	Trapped

“Are you alright?” Vivienne asked, and Solas glanced back toward her and the Inquisitor. She reached out, touching Lavellan’s shoulder, but he flinched away, shaking his head. “My dear, you look pale as a sheet.”

“I’m fine, Vivienne, thank you for your concern,” Lavellan said, and he stepped further up the path, moving past Solas. He did look pale, that much was correct. Solas could see the way he kept glancing at the cave walls or at the ceilings, as though he thought it might collapse at any moment.

He didn’t like caves at the best of times, Solas knew, usually moved rather fast when they were cutting through mountains. It wasn’t a problem, per se, and nor something he ever appeared overtly anxious over. He didn’t like to camp in caves, to be certain, and ordinarily cut through caverns or cut paths as swiftly as they could, but the Deep Roads?

They were proving… problematic.

Of course, following the natural law of narrative progression, Solas supposed it was only to be expected when a darkspawn-caused rockslide trapped the Inquisitor in his place.

\--

“Don’t panic,” came Solas’ voice through the rock, and Lavellan gasped in a breath through a slightly tight chest, pinned as he was in his place. The rocks had fallen behind him, pinning him against the wall underneath a flint outcrop that had at least stopped the stone from falling on his head. “Are you injured, lethallin?”

He hated caves. He hated it, hated being buried so deep beneath the earth he might be trapped down here, and now, and now! He was trying to stop himself from breathing too heavily as he tried to lean to the side, moving, but it just made rocks shift behind him, and he let out a sharp noise of terror, breaking out of his mouth unbidden. He felt like he was going to burst into flames, he was so frightened. What if more stones came down? What if he was buried? What if…?

“No,” Lavellan called back in. Unlike Solas, he didn’t bother with the common tongue, damn the dwarves, damn Vivienne, damn anyone else that might be listening. “Solas, I need to get out of here, I can’t, I can’t—”

“_Peace_,” Solas said. “Breathe steadily, evenly. You have enough air. We’re working to get you out.”

\--

It was painfully slow, working to extricate the Inquisitor from the fallen-in cavern. Solas and Vivienne were working to keep any rock from falling further down as some of the Dead Legionnaires and the Iron Bull worked to pull it out, but he could hear Lavellan getting more and more panicked.

It helped, he supposed, that Lavellan was speaking only in elvish.

Some of the increasingly hysterical curses eking out from his throat would be _very_ vulgar in common.

“It’s okay, boss, I got you,” he heard the Iron Bull say, and Solas watched as he dragged Lavellan under the arms and lifted him out. Lavellan could barely stand up straight, he was shaking so hard, and Bull gently set him down on his feet in front of Solas.

Lavellan gripped so tightly as Solas’ chest that Solas was winded by it, and Solas wrapped one arm around his back as he lowered down the last of the rock, letting the cavern fall in without letting the rock rush out. Lavellan was gasping in his breaths, clutching at Solas with bruising grasps of his hand, and Solas didn’t flinch as he turned to look at the Legionnaires.

“What, Herald of Andraste’s scared of a little bit of rock?” asked one of the Legionnaires, raising his eyebrows.

“I am _not_,” Lavellan hissed, turning on his heel, his hand pulsing with a sharp green glow, “the Herald of Andraste. I come from Dalish blood and was raised under blue, open skies, and if you were put beneath the sun and cloud, naughty above your head but nothingness, I have no doubt you’d be shaking as much as I am!”

“Sorry,” the Legionnaire muttered, turning his face away from the looming figure of the furious Lavellan, not to mention the glare from his hand, but Solas saw the way he shuddered at the thought.

“Boss,” Bull said, but Lavellan had his head bowed, the back of his hand pressed tightly to his mouth. “You gonna be sick?”

Lavellan shook his head.

The Iron Bull looked to Solas, who gave a minute shake of his head, and Bull stepped away from him as Solas stepped forward, putting his hand on the Inquisitor’s back. “They need time to fix this cave-in,” Solas murmured. “Lieutenant Renn estimates at least three weeks. We will return to Skyhold, and another party, with the Seeker leading it, can return.”

He expected an argument, but Lavellan just nodded his head, his eyes closed. “Cassandra,” he said. “Yes.”

\--

For three weeks, Lavellan slept in his own bedroom with balcony doors wide open, Solas either beside him or working at his desk. There would have been nightmares, had Solas not intervened.

“I’m… sorry,” he heard Lavellan say quietly to Vivienne, some weeks after they had returned. “You must have been embarrassed.”

“My dear,” Vivienne had replied, “as embarrassing as your outburst was, it happened before a few Legionnaires of the Dead and some darkspawn. We all have our weaknesses. It is more embarrassing that you show such predilection to unwashed apostates – fear in the face of being crushed to death is more than rational in comparison.”

“Thank you,” Lavellan had said, with a weak smile. “I think.”

\--

Lavellan slept one night between Solas’ thighs, his head laid on Solas’ belly, his arms wrapped around one of Solas’ legs. It was one of the most uncomfortable positions Solas had ever been in.

“Ar lath ma,” Lavellan whispered.

“Ma’desen, vhenan,” Solas replied: _I have you, love. _“Rest.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feel free to hit up [my ask on Tumblr,](http://patricianandclerk.tumblr.com/ask) to talk about DA in general, and definitely to recommend blogs to follow! I am open for requests (for Origins, II, and Inq). I also run a no-drama Dragon Age Discord, which [you can join here.](https://discordapp.com/invite/ttgP5v8) Please comment if you can!


End file.
